


Firsts the series

by corneroffandom



Category: Total Nonstop Action Wrestling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-06 18:26:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11606388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corneroffandom/pseuds/corneroffandom
Summary: Short Robbie/Zema fics





	1. Chapter 1

Dalton Castle. Name had never meant much to Robbie, just some indy dude with an extravagant entrance, and Boys. He'd been in TNA a couple of times, but mostly wrestles in ROH, which is fine- the further away, the better, but Zema likes him for some reason. Goes to stand up comedy shows sometimes if Dalton is performing. He's tried to get Robbie to go too, but Robbie doesn't find the man funny or charming, if anything he's grating and obnoxious.

It's for this reason that Robbie finds himself sitting, stewing, on the couch in Zema's apartment, staring blankly at the TV as the minutes tick away. Zema's never out _late_ on nights like tonight, unless he gets roped into doing some deejaying at some club, but still. It's frustrating, especially considering how little time they get together between their schedules with indy wrestling and Zema's various side projects. Wildey is looping around his ankles, purring and batting at his shoelaces, but Robbie isn't even in the mood to oblige the cat, which causes him to eventually lose interest and go elsewhere.

There's a knock at the door at some point and Robbie trudges up to get it, blinking at the delivery guy standing there with large boxes in hand. "Hey, these need fridgerated," he says, handing over the items as soon as Robbie's scrawled out a signature on the pad thrust into his hands. "I think they're milk or something."

It registers with Robbie and he takes the boxes, offering a brisk thanks to the man, before shutting the door in his face and dropping both boxes into the fridge, shutting the door with a rattling push and returning to the living room to wait. It's barely an hour before he hears the door being unlocked again, but it had been unbearable so he stays where he's at as Zema stumbles in, kicks off his shoes and sighs happily, leaning down to greet and pet Wildey.

He clearly notices the ice behind Robbie's kiss when he leans in to greet him as well, but doesn't say anything as he goes into the kitchen. "Oh hey! Muscle Milk sent me stuff!" He's clearly pleased about it, and even has Robbie take a picture of him holding both gallons so he can tweet about it.

Still disgruntled, Robbie decides to catch up on his own timeline while Zema makes some sandwiches in the kitchen, always hungry after a night out. He's just clicked on Zema's milk tweet, planning on replying to it, when everything skids to a stop. Dalton's already seen it, already replied to it. "Nice jugs?" Robbie mouths to himself, a disgusted look crossing his face. He wants to reply to Dalton, he wants to grab Zema's phone and block the idiot, he wants to do so many different things... but instead, he grits his teeth, gets off of the couch and walks into the kitchen.

Zema is in there, beatboxing under his breath while he piles on ham and cheese, mayonnaise and mustard to some bread, and Robbie watches him for a few moments, distracted by how the light overhead reflects off of his hair, before remembering why he'd come in in the first place. Thrusting his phone into Zema's face, he waits as Zema pulls back to be able to read it easier. "What the-?" Realization dawns and he laughs sharply at the tweet before looking up and seeing the angry glower on Robbie's face. "Oh." Putting his sandwich down, he turns his full attention onto the other man. "Robbie, bro, come on-"

"Don't Robbie bro me," Robbie snaps. "What's this? Is this what you guys really do when you're out for _stand up comedy nights?_ " He quote marks the term with his fingers, dark eyes locked on Zema's as his face falls. "Nice jugs?!"

"It- it's just the way Dalton is," Zema stammers, thrown by Robbie's extremely rare vitriol towards him. "He flirts with everyone, hell I think he was flirting with his chair back at the bar. It's nothing, Robbie, I swear." Robbie still doesn't seem appeased so Zema steps closer, rests his hand over Robbie's and blocks the view of the phone, laying it gently down on the counter. "You trust me, don't you? Do you really think I'd be cheating on you when we've just... begun this whole thing? C'mon, man. You mean more to me than that. I thought you knew that by now."

Robbie exhales, taking in how his hand is tingling where Zema is touching him, how Zema's eyes seem to alternate between shades of brown the more he searches them, and how unhappy he looks at the thought of Robbie not trusting him. He melts finally, the tension easing out of his body as he leans into Zema. "I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I'm an idiot sometimes. I know you're right- hell, I think Dalton even flirted with _Spud_ a little bit."

Zema's head drops forward in relief as he chuckles, cupping Robbie's hand and squeezing it. "I did hear Ethan yelling about something that weekend, yeah."

"Yep, that was it." They stare at each other for a moment before Robbie cups Zema's face with his free hand and kisses him slowly, trying to make up for the unenthused greeting he'd given him earlier. "I'm sorry, Z."

"No worries, bro." Zema winks at him with a grin before returning to his sandwich, cutting it in half and giving part to Robbie once it's all put together. "C'mon, let's go watch some crappy TV and try not to feed _all_ of this sandwich to Wildey."

Robbie smirks when Zema grips his hand and drags him out of the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder in time to see the phone left behind on the counter, flashing pointlessly. His grin grows.


	2. Street Fight

Zema doesn't look thrilled. Bites at his fingers, listens as Robbie changes into his wrestling gear behind him. "Wish I could go out with you," he sighs. Robbie had asked him not to, to stay backstage, and he had agreed, but...

"This isn't your fight," Robbie says, ruffling Zema's hair before stepping in front of him and kneeling down with a small smirk. "I appreciated you having my back the last few weeks, but this is my battle to end. You get to sit back here and think about what a hot boyfriend you've got, right, Z?"

Zema rolls his eyes, lips quirking up. "You think I do that all the time anyway, don't you?"

Robbie grins. "I know I do." Zema's flush is worth it as Robbie leans in to kiss him. "I'll be fine. I'll beat his ass for everything he's put us through the last couple of months, and then I'll come back and we'll celebrate. Yeah?"

"Hell yeah," Zema says with as much enthusiasm as he can muster, reaching out to bump Robbie's proffered fist. The instant Robbie disappears through the locker room door, his face falls and he resumes biting at his finger anxiously.

The street fight itself goes back and forth- Robbie fights with everything in him, of course he does, but Jessie is darker, more ruthless, and every bit of offense Robbie gets barely makes him flinch, leaves him eager to dish back twice as much. Zema's nails are bloody by the time the match ends, Robbie passing out after refusing to tap out. "Dammit," he mumbles, on his feet and walking out to the ringside area. He passes Jessie on his way down the ramp but Jessie merely laughs at him, heading backstage, and Zema bites his lip hard before rushing the rest of the way to Robbie's side.

He's conscious now, groggy but reaches out for Zema as soon as he sees him. "Did I win?" he says with this heartbreakingly aware look in his eye. Zema simply shakes his head and squeezes Robbie's hand, waiting until the referee helps to get him to get to his feet, the medic confirming that he's able to be move without risking serious harm. Zema holds him up on the other side, the three of them walking slowly along the ramp until they reach the back. Zema's watchful, gripping Robbie loose enough that if he had to let him go to defend him against attack, he could.

But none come, they make it quietly back to the trainer's room and Robbie sighs as he's sprawled out on the cot, Zema refusing to move as he's examined. "'M sorry," he mumbles. Zema looks down at him, confused. "I lost. I wanted to win for you. Because of what he did to you."

Zema scoffs, shakes his head. "He did very little to me in comparison to what he did to you. Robbie, come on, bro. He took you out for weeks. Thanks to you, he barely touched me. I'm more than fine, y'know?"

Robbie hums. Licks his lips, eyes dark and fixed on Zema. "It is weird I almost didn't mind what he did to me? I mean, I did, but I didn't." Robbie's lips quirk up into a broken kind of smile when Zema looks down at him, confused and worried. "No, I didn't hit my head or anything. It just... gave us an opportunity to really face this. Us." He taps Zema on the chest and rests his head back against the pillow. "What we could have."

Zema exhales, laughs out softly. "Well, when you put it that way." He squeezes Robbie's hand. "He could've found a less painful way to go about it though, huh?"

Robbie chuckles. "Definitely, Z. But whatever works, I guess, huh?"

"You're ridiculous," Zema mumbles, leaning in to press his nose against Robbie's cheek.

"Yeah, well, you like that about me."

"True, I do," Zema sighs before pulling back to look at the trainer. "So he's really ok, right? Can we leave?"

"Yeah, he's fine," the trainer confirms after giving one last look at Robbie's back and side. "Just keep an eye on him. If he experiences pain or difficulty breathing, let me know immediately."

"Yep, I definitely will." Zema helps Robbie up and out of the room, keeping a careful hand on his lower back as they walk side by side down the hall, Zema still keeping an eye on the people still lurking around just in case. "Hey, something you said before," he says after a moment.

Robbie shrugs, then cringes. "I say a lot of things, Z. Which one do you mean?"

"Celebrating," he says with a small smirk.

Robbie raises his eyebrows. "I lost, what do we have to celebrate exactly?"

"Us," Zema murmurs, teeth flashing in a grin as Robbie's eyes widen in realization. "Seems as good a time as any, huh?" he wonders, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of Robbie's lips.

"Yes, definitely," Robbie sighs, tugging at Zema's shirt and leading him back to the locker room to get their things. "Let's get the hell outta here."


	3. Reflections

They look so _young_. It's the first thing Robbie thinks as he sits on Zema's couch and thumbs through his phone, looking at the beginning of the Bromans. Back before Jessie proved what a jackass he could be. Back when Zema was just the deejay they'd hired to give their entrances a little extra something that no one else had at the time. He grins into his fist as he stares at the screen fondly, remembering how new everything was back then, how exciting.

He's still sitting there when he hears a faint _mrrrr_ noise, Wildey hopping up onto the back of the couch and staring at him, eyes gleaming in the faint light of his phone. He stares at the cat, smirking. "What are you doing awake, Wildey?" There's absolutely no surprise to be had when he hears footsteps slowly finding their way to the living room, nor when Zema drops down next to him, blinking tiredly. "Where one goes, the other will follow," Robbie chuckles with a roll of his eyes, shifting to make room for his significant other. "Did I wake you up?"

"The bed was empty," Zema mumbles sleepily, resting his head on Robbie's shoulder. "What are you doing out here at this hour?"

"Couldn't sleep, so I thought if I came out here, I wouldn't wake you up." Robbie makes a face, running his fingers through Zema's hair. "Sorry." He shifts the phone so Zema can see it and chuckles. "Look at these handsome fools."

"Oh God," Zema mumbles, staring at the pictures taken around the start of his time in the Bromans. "I look ridiculous. What was I even thinking?"

Robbie laughs, tracing a hand down Zema's jaw. "Considering everything you were fighting to return from back then, I think you looked pretty hot. Definitely caught my attention." Zema blinks, looking up at him, and Robbie chuckles. "And you still do, without even trying apparently." He draws him in and kisses him slowly, feeling how pliant and sleepy he still is.

Zema hums as Robbie wraps an arm around him, tucking him in close, before continuing to thumb through more of the pictures he has on his phone. Some with Jessie, some without. It's undeniable even back then- they look good together. He casts a quick glance down at Zema as he blinks tiredly against Robbie's chest. "We make one good looking couple, bro. Always have."

"Always will," Zema offers, slowly losing the fight against his exhaustion and falling into a doze against Robbie's chest.

Robbie chuckles and slowly shifts so he's sprawled out over the couch in a somewhat more comfortable position for sleeping, finding himself lulled by Zema's warmth and the steady rise and fall of his chest. "I think you're right," he sighs, kissing the side of Zema's face. He yawns and closes his eyes after one last peek at his phone. "Definitely right..."

Shortly after he drifts off, his phone slips from his fingers and lightly drops onto the carpet, left open to a picture of just the two of them taken at some fan meet'n'greet, wide, silly grins on their faces as they lean towards each other, eyes gleaming with unabashed happiness in the moment captured.


	4. Injury

"Hey, bro!" Robbie says, cheerful and oddly hyper. Considering he'd just gotten out of a meeting with execs, that's uncharateristic- usually meetings are boring or bad news. "Guess who just got thrown into the King of the Mountain match?!"

Zema's eyes widen. That _is_ big. He laughs and throws an arm around Robbie, tugging him close. "That's great, E." It is, one of the hugest opportunities Robbie's had in awhile. "Go kick some ass for me, yeah?"

"Definitely, bro," Robbie says, resting his forehead against Zema's for a moment before quickly kissing him. "Gotta go, I don't even know what gear to wear tonight!"

Zema laughs and shakes his head as Robbie dashes off to prepare, wandering off to find a good place to watch from. He's in front of one of the biggest monitors in the building, watching with a few other wrestlers and techs, when it happens. What was a normal enough match all falls to the wayside when Eric Young and Robbie brawl to the outside, just for EY to get the upperhand and piledrive Robbie head first onto the steel steps. As Robbie doesn't move from this, Zema feels his world skid to a stop as well, unable to do anything but gape at his downed boyfriend.

The screen goes dark and Zema realizes that they've gone to commercial so he takes off at a run, reaching the curtains just as they get Robbie backstage on a stretcher. He's still pale, motionless, and Zema is seriously considering finding EY and wiping the insanity purely out of his mind, just for all of the strength to fade out of him when he actually looks at Robbie, his lips parted, his skin ashen, his body too still. "Please," he breathes out, entangling their fingers and lifting Robbie's hands to his lips, softly kissing his knuckles. "Robbie... I thought you'd be safe, I was just relieved it wasn't Jessie again, but... this is almost worse..." He's crying but he doesn't even care as he drops his forehead against Robbie's hand. "I just want things to go back to normal, when we could wrestle without everything feeling so dangerous. Like any match could..." He shudders. "Could take you away from me..."

A twitch, trembling breath, and then Robbie rasps out, "Nothing..." Their eyes lock and he smiles tiredly, squeezing Zema's fingers, weak but enough pressure there to send sharp relief coursing through his boyfriend's veins. "Nothing ever could, Z. Don't... don't worry. I'm gonna be ok..."

"You'd better be," Zema whispers to him, pressing a careful kiss to his lips. "Dammit, Robbie. We just started this, and you're always getting hurt..." He scrubs at his face with his free hand.

Robbie chuckles wearily and tugs at Zema's hand. "I guess it's just one of those things," he says wearily. "You just happen to be involved with a guy a lot of people want to knock around."

"Not funny," Zema mumbles, even as his lips twitch faintly. "Maybe you should stop pissing so many people off."

Robbie laughs. "Where's the fun in that, bro?" His eyes soften. "Besides, there's only really one person I care to make happy now-a-days."

Zema sniffs, looking away. "Flatterer," he mumbles, allowing himself to be tugged in for another kiss. "You know this means I'm going to baby you for awhile again once we get back to Chicago," he warns Robbie.

Robbie shrugs, then winces as his head throbs at the movement. "I'm ok with that, bro." He smiles as Zema exhales roughly, rubbing the pad of his thumb over Robbie's brow, his touch easing his headache a little. "Just keep Wildey from clawing at me."

"No promises," Zema laughs as Robbie huffs at him, looking unimpressed. "I'll talk to him," he promises, smiling when Robbie leans back, looking appeased.

"Good, you'd better," he mumbles.

Zema smiles, sitting next to his boyfriend and allowing himself a minute to relax in the fact that Robbie had made it out of another dangerous situation still mostly in tact. He's not sure how long their luck will hold out, but he hopes that it lasts for a nice long time.


	5. Best Friends

"Hey, bro," Robbie calls out, barely even looking up as Zema finishes pouring some cat food into Wildey's bowl.

"What's up?" he asks, moving over to kneel next to Robbie on the couch. He leans in to kiss him quickly and smirks when Robbie glances over at him with a content look in his dark eyes. "Oh, the latest Question Mark is up? Awesome! I was in this one."

"So was I," Robbie says, unpausing the video. They watch as the title card loads and the very first person shown is Zema, talking about how Robbie is his best friend. Robbie grins, pleased, as Zema shifts next to him, cheeks tinging pink. "Awwwww," he teases him when he says they'll probably be friends even after they're done in wrestling.

Zema shrugs, clearing his throat as they stare at the screen, over a minute passes before Robbie appears and claims Zema as his best friend, their eyes locking as Zema chuckles. "Well, I mean, who else were you really going to say? Ethan?" They turn in time to see Ethan fumble around a few different weird phrases, eyes shifting from left to right, and then say Tenay is his best friend. "Guess he couldn't bring himself to admit it's Spud," he laughs, the video now ended.

"Of course it's Spud, the liar," Robbie says, closing the screen out and shutting his laptop before turning to face Zema. "I know I didn't say as much as you did about it all, but you _are_ my absolute best friend. In and outside of wrestling." He lightly runs his fingers over Zema's jaw and then presses close, kissing him.

"You said enough," he shrugs. "Didn't even take a second to think about it or anything. I was imrpessed."

Robbie smiles at him. "Well, yeah, because you're always my first choice, dat DJ tho."

Zema chuckles and leans into him, eyes soft. "Same here." Robbie strokes his arm and Zema sighs, pressing another kiss to the side of his lips. "Maybe we should be on _all_ of the Question Mark episodes. At least we make more sense than most of the guys backstage."

"You just want me to reveal that you're the answer to every question I'm asked," he says with a laugh.

"Damn, you saw through me," Zema says, eyes glinting as Robbie kisses him again.

"Always do," he smirks, brushing his nose against Zema's.


End file.
